In the Library
by GoldenFlowers
Summary: After visiting The Library with Donna, the Doctor can't get River Song out of his head. Against his better judgment, he goes and finds her at her teaching job at the university. He just can't help himself. Rated M for mature content.


River slumped down into her chair, breathing a sigh of relief. Finally, the day was over.

She should be happier about it, she supposed. She'd just taught her first class at the university.

Dr. River Song. Professor River Song, now.

There was a certain ring to it, to be sure. Of course, she'd known it was coming ever since the Doctor had let it slip so many visits ago. Spoilers indeed. It had been a comfort though, during those long days of researching and writing, to know that she could make it in the end.

And now after a long day of prepping, stressing, presenting, answering, and organizing, she was done. As soon as the formalities were complete for the course, she'd headed to the special collections room in the library where she had all but lived for the years while she was doing her doctorate. It was dark, lit only be the fading light from the window, full of books, and blissfully quiet. She hadn't even bothered to take off her academic gown. Black. She felt very learned wearing it, and mused to herself that perhaps she would always wear it for classes, not just for the formal first class of the year.

There was a soft knock at the door.

"Yes, what is it?" she asked, trying to quell the annoyance that anyone was disturbing her here, of all places. She just wanted to be left alone with her thoughts for the evening.

The handle turned and the door swung inward, letting a soft gust of air into the climate controlled room. A man in a blue suit stepped quickly, softly, into the room, and closed the door behind him. Then he stood there, holding himself back in the shadows, not saying a word. She could feel his gaze on her from across the room, searching, assessing. She ran through the images she had in her head... surely it must be... Yes! There he was. Just one regeneration before her Doctor. She smiled warmly at him. She had only seen him once before, and fleetingly. She was certain he hadn't seen her. He'd been busy running about with a red-headed woman... Donna? and hadn't even glanced in her direction. She didn't even know if he had any idea who she was. She knew only a little about him from what her Doctor had said. The Time Lord Victorious. There were happier memories as well, but the last days before his regeneration were what had stuck with the next version of himself.

It didn't matter though, really. He was always _her_ doctor, and each regeneration presented new and interesting possibilities. New stories, new adventures. But he hadn't shown up this time with a wild grin and an outstretched hand, inviting her to leave with him, to run with him. He hadn't shown up in the nick of time to pick her up out of outer space or from the hands of whoever she'd upset that time. No, he just stood. Not saying a word. Not moving forward. _Ahh, _she thought, _It's one of those times. _The other Doctor, her Doctor, had on occasion come to her when he needed someone who wouldn't ask questions and wouldn't make him talk about things. There were times when he'd failed to save someone, caused more trouble that he'd fixed, upset balances, hurt the people he loved. Times like when he'd left Amy and Rory at the house he'd gotten for them, and decided to let them live their life without the danger and without him.

She still had no idea how he'd acquired the house. It wasn't as though he ever had money.

Regardless, there were times when he needed someone who understood him and didn't depend on him for safety. Someone who knew that whatever he did, he didn't do in order to hurt her. She knew what his life was like. The chance meetings and hurried exits, the surprise visits and lies about returning. It was just the way he was.

"Doctor," she said softly.

He didn't move.

"Doctor, it's fine, you can come in."

He came forward a few steps.

"Where are we?" she said, pulling her blue journal out from the pocket in her gown. She always had it with her, even today. It gave her comfort. It felt... right.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I just had to see you. I found out what university you were studying at, and I had to find you... And I'm sorry, but I don't know where we are. And I can't say that I want to. There's too many things, too many thoughts in my head..."

He sighed. He'd arrived here without thinking, without planning. He'd left Donna on Midnight, enjoying the spa, and had snuck off to the TARDIS in the hopes that he would arrive back before she noticed he was gone. He'd just been going there to think. To think about River. This woman he'd never seen before, who talked to him as though she knew him, looked at him as though she could see inside him, touched him as though she was familiar with every aspect of him, _whispered his name_ as though she'd said it a thousand times. There was only one person he would have told his name to, only one person he could have. The only time he would have would have been if he... He'd sat, and thought, and tinkered with things and talked to the TARDIS, but still couldn't get her out of his head. Without really meaning to, he'd looked her up in the TARDIS database. The ship showed him only the information that didn't pertain to River's interaction with him. The history was complex though... pieced together. Uncertain. Wavering. Her time at the university stood out to him, and with some hesitation, he flipped the controls.

He'd arrived at the university, landing in some sort of entomology lab full of insects and samples. After a brief wander around, he'd managed to find the archaeology department, and had asked where he might find a certain River Song. He was told that she could be anywhere, but that the likely options were her office or the special collections. He'd checked the office first. It was dim and grey, full of old library books and drafts of papers. No personal touches, no sense that it was a place she spent any time. He'd gone to the library next, up the stairs to the top floor, to the door marked with the name of some donor or something, and knocked. He barely heard her reply through the thick wood of the door. After a brief moment of hesitation, he turned the handle and stepped in. He turned quickly and shut the door behind him, cutting off his own escape. Then he turned back towards the room and looked around. There she was, sitting at the long table, wearing her academic gown and looking... worn. Her hair, up in such a tight ponytail last time he saw her, now made a golden halo around her head in the last light from the window, framing her face with curls. A softer, slightly younger face. She smiled at him, recognition in her eyes. He stayed where he was, uncertain. Time passed.

"It's alright," she said, "Just tell me."

"I... can't. What's that you always say? Spoilers."

He moved forward again, walking to the end of the table where she sat at and placing a hand on the edge. Anything for support. Anything that felt real. He needed something to hold on to.

"Nice library," he said, trying to lighten the mood a bit, "It smells good."

She smiled at this. "Yes, it's a good place to think. Someday I'm planning to go the The Library though. Have you ever been? I hear it's been deserted for years, but there must be such wonderful books there! Every book ever written."

He winced, trying to hide the cold feeling of his heart plummeting, trying not to show her the thoughts he had raging in his head. _She couldn't know, could she?_ He looked at her expression. Nothing but interest, no guile, no tricks, no sadness. _No, she couldn't know yet._

She watched his face carefully, watched as he tried to shut out his thoughts, to shove them down where she couldn't see them.

She reached out a slid her hand over the one he had resting on the table, her stomach flip-flopping out of sudden nervousness. It was always like this. She never knew what he knew, never really knew what he felt. But she tried her best to be there for him. She closed her hand around his long, slender fingers, stroking his thumb with hers. _Different hands,_ she noted. Her Doctor's hands were knobby, a bit dry, and always flapping around as he tried to emphasize what he was saying. This Doctor's hand though, had long, straight fingers, smooth skin, slightly rougher palms. She watched him close his eyes and sigh softly under his breath as she ran her thumb over his knuckle. He stood there frozen, seemingly afraid to move, as though he thought he might scare her away, or run himself, if he dared to do anything too sudden.

She stood, still holding his hand. He opened his eyes at this, and she took advantage of his nearness and looked searchingly at his face, trying to discern his thoughts. Her eyes locked with his and for a moment, before he could hide it, she saw all the hurt and pain and confusion he was trying so desperately to hide from her before he managed to shut down again.

He cursed inwardly. He shouldn't have let himself slip. Her hand on his was so reassuring, so knowing... he'd opened his eyes without thinking and without control. He tried to cover it up with a manic grin, but it was halfhearted at best, so he settled for a blank look as he tried to settle his features. The look in her eyes told him that she'd seen though, and he winced again, expecting her to turn away, to leave, to be afraid.

She stepped forward, pain in her eyes as well. "Oh, sweetie," she whispered hoarsely, and pulled him to her.

She let go of his hand and slid her arms around him, pulling him close to her without even thinking about it. She felt him stiffen, his whole body going rigid, but she continued to hold him, keeping her arms wrapped lightly around his waist, her head on his shoulder. He was so slim, this version. Slim and lithe, not bony like her Doctor.

He was startled by her sudden move, but after a moment he allowed himself to relax a bit and put his arms around her as well, pulling her closer to him. She fit comfortably in his arms, warm and curved against him. He turned his face towards her and nestled his face into her curls, breathing in deeply. She smelled so good. He shut his eyes tight.

"Please," he whispered brokenly, "please say it again."

She moved to look at him.

"Say what?"

"Please say my name."

She leaned in close, her lips almost brushing his ear, and whispered his name to him, barely loud enough to hear. She felt him draw a long, shuddering sigh, and pulled back to look at him. His eyes were dark, so dark... full of confusion. Searching. Hoping. He reached up and, after a moment's hesitation, slid his fingers into her hair and pulled her mouth to his in a soft, uncertain kiss. He heard a quick intake of breath, and pulled back quickly. _Had he been wrong? _

No.

She met his gaze briefly, trying to reassure him, before pulling him back to her mouth. Her soft lips moved against his, confident, persistent. He allowed himself to relax into the kiss and pulled her body closer to his, wrapping his arm around her waist and tangling his other hand in her hair. He kissed her back, hard. Harder than he intended to. _River._

He moaned softly as she nipped gently at his lower lip. Still hesitant, he ran his tongue carefully along her full lips. She parted them with a gasp, and he slid his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss, tasting her. She responded eagerly, running her tongue along his, then moving to suck at his lower lip. His grip on her hair tightened, and he crushed his mouth to hers, forcing her head back. She let out a soft cry and he drew back, studying her face. She grinned at him.

"Oh, sweetie. I've missed you," she said, stoking his face. "I love the sideburns! And the hair, it just doesn't stop! Mmmmmm and you're wonderfully young."

"I'm really not."

"But you are. And so very good at kissing."

"So I got it right then?"

"You got what right?"

"I knew that there was only one time I could ever tell anyone my name."

She smiled.

"But who are you, exactly?"

"It's complicated," she said, running her thumb over his lips.

"Or maybe it's not."

He leaned in and kissed her again, hard, sliding his hand up her side to rest just below her breast while he moved the other to cradle her neck. He spread his fingers over her side, feeling the warmth of her body through her clothing. Then, without hesitation, he undid the clasp on her robe and pushed it off her shoulders and onto the floor. He drew back from her lips to look at what she was wearing. A simple white blouse, dark wash jeans, and heels. She looked perfect.

"Like what you see?" she asked, teasing, and watched him grin in response.

She liked this version of the Doctor. The confidence, the smooth movements. No embarrassed looks or uncertain hands. The voice that resonated deep in his chest, and those dark, dark brown eyes that looked at her, appraising, questioning, becoming happier as time passed. And that slim body in the almost-too-tight suit._ Mmmmm. _Yes, she was definitely going to take advantage of the situation.

She reached out, resting her hands on his chest for a moment, watching his face, before unbuttoning his jacket and sliding it down his arms onto the floor. She moved to his tie and quickly undid it, pulling it from around his neck and dropping it somewhere she hoped he could find it again. She grabbed his shirt, getting the first button undone and revealing his throat, but he spun them around and pushed her up against the bookcase on the wall, grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head. She grinned at him and tossed her head back, allowing him access to her neck. He let out a rough sound of approval and ran his hand up her side again before ghosting his thumb across her breast, eliciting a breathy moan from her. He pushed his entire body up against hers, pushing his knee between her legs and bringing his mouth down on her exposed neck, placing open-mouthed kisses all the way up to her jaw. He nipped her neck hard, then immediately laved the spot with his tongue, and kissed his way down to the collar of her blouse. He released her wrists so that he could unbutton her shirt, but she beat him to it, moving quickly to finish the job she'd started. She tugged his shirt out of his trousers and made short work of the remaining buttons, slipping her hands into the shirt and pushing it off his shoulders. She ran her hands all over him, loving the feel of his skin under her palms, admiring his slim body. She pulled him close enough to lick along his collarbone and kiss the hollow of his throat, before he pushed himself away from her so that he could take off her shirt. He got fed up with the small buttons about half way through and opted for just pulling the shirt off over her head roughly. The he leaned down and slipped the shoes off his feet. Returning his hands to her sides, he made a snap decision and turned them back around to the table. He picked her up and quickly set her on the edge of the table, pushing himself between her legs and pulling her hips closer to him. He paused, and moved his hands up to her hair, running his fingers through her hair, searching her face.

"Have we-"

"Not in this body, no."

"Ahh. So that means... "

"Yes."

He sighed and leaned against her, resting his head on her shoulder. She stroked his hair, knowing all too well what he was feeling. Every time was the first and last time for something.

"I promise I'll make it good, yeah?"

She felt him smile against her neck and ran a hand up and down his back, comforting. Then she kissed her way over his cheek, pausing at the corner of his mouth, before pressing a soft kiss there. He turned to meet her mouth with a frantic kiss, moving his mouth against hers desperately. He bent her back over the table, supporting her with his arms and he thrust his tongue into her mouth and pushed himself against her. She gasped at his sudden onslaught, reaching one hand behind her to support herself and tangling the other in his hair, causing him to moan loudly. He pulled her back into sitting position, then off the table, moving his hands to the button of her jeans. She kicked off her heels as he undid her fly and shimmied her hips as he slid the jeans off her legs. He leaned back, taking her in. Her hair, a tangled mess around her head, her soft skin and curved figure, her grey eyes watching him. He ran a finger along the edge of her black lace underwear.

"There's a sofa in the back," she said coyly, winking at him and moving her hips a little, "Care to give it a try?"

"Oh _fuck_ yes," he rasped.

She grabbed his hand and led him around behind the bookcases to the sofa. She'd spent many a nap there in her years at the university, and had always thought it would be a good place for...

She turned to face him, grinning, then ran her hands down his torso to rest on the top of his pants. She ran her fingers lightly across the sensitive skin around his hips and listed to the sharp intake of breath before she let her fingers slide over his cloth-covered length, eliciting a deep groan from him as he involuntarily pushed himself into her hand. She kept stroking him, enjoying the soft sounds he made, before undoing his fly and sliding both his trousers and his pants off his hips and onto the floor. She moved closer to him, kissing the base of his throat gently, backing him up against the wall, before pinning him to the smooth surface with her body and wrapping her hand around his length. He hissed as she moved her hand, stroking him firmly, her head resting on his shoulder while she leaned into him. She increased the pressure carefully, uncertain of his responses in this body, releasing him when he thrust hard into her hand, and teasingly moving her hand back up his torso. She paused at his nipple, brushing a thumb across it repeatedly before pinching it making him gasp, his back arching. She moved to her mouth to his other nipple, licking, nipping and sucking, before kissing her way down his chest, his stomach. Kneeling in front of him, she looked up at his face. His lust-filled eyes, darker than ever, watched her from under hooded lids. His mouth hung open as he breathed hard, anticipating her next move. She rested one hand on his thigh for support and control, and wrapped the other around him carefully, holding him in position. Moving closer, she ran her tongue along his length before taking him into her mouth as far as she could.

" Oh _fuck_. River, fuck, River. Ohhhhh." He gasped as she started to bob her head.

_Fuck, she was perfect._ Her mouth, so warm and wet on him, her tongue swirling over him. He stroked her hair and tried his best to keep from thrusting into her mouth._ Ohhhhh why had he not come here sooner! Later? Whatever_. His thoughts fled as she began to stroke him with her hand.

He whimpered quietly as she released him, but pulled her back up to his mouth to place a bruising kiss on her full lips. He pushed her back toward the couch, spinning them around so that he could sit on the sofa with her in front of him. She startled him, moving forward confidently, pushing his shoulders into the back of the couch and straddling him. He felt the lace fabric of her panties rub against him as she settled onto his lap. He reached a hand behind her and deftly unclasped her bra, sliding it down off her shoulders, then off her breasts, tossing it to the floor. She lifted her arms above her head, twisting her body a little to show herself off to him, enjoying the way he ran his eyes over her body. He slid a hand down her arm, pausing at her shoulder, then moved slowly down to brush his thumb across her dark nipple roughly a few times before taking her into his mouth, sucking on her nipple and running his tongue around it as she arched into him, pulling his head closer with one hand while she reached the other down to stroke his length again, causing him to moan against her. He reached his hand up to her other breast and stroked her while he continued to suck. His free hand grasped her thigh hard. Licking her nipple one last time, he looked up at her as he continued stroking the other, loving the way she tossed he head back, mouth open, hair cascading. He gave her a quick kiss on the throat before pushing her gently off his lap so that he could hook a finger under the lace edge of her panties and pull them off. He took a moment to gaze at her, taking it all in. She was so perfect, soft curves and toned muscles, smooth skin, that hair that he found he loved to tangle his fingers in, those grey eyes, full of knowing and acceptance, watching him. If only he'd know sooner... but if this was going to be the last time he saw her, he was going to memorize every inch of her, imprint her onto his soul, fill his thoughts with her, only her, trying to erase the hurt and the pain of uncertainty caused by their last meeting. He ran his hands up her legs, over her hips, her sides, her breasts, sliding them back down to her hips to pull her back down onto the couch with him, her legs straddling his.

She stretched underneath his hands, loving the feel of his palms running over her skin, his fingers brushing across her sides, down her spine. She responded in kind, sliding her hands over his chest, down his sides, all the way to his hips, bringing one hand back up to stroke his nipple again, causing him to twitch and tighten his grip on her, fingers pressing hard into her skin. She nipped at his neck again, placing open-mouthed kisses all the way up to his jaw, pausing at his pulse point to suck on his skin, making him hiss softy. She felt his hand leave her hip, his fingers grazing her skin as he moved his hand up her body, never breaking contact, until he could knot his fingers in her hair and pull her mouth to his, sliding his tongue over her lower lip before pushing it into her mouth and kissing her hard. His other hand found her breast again, and she moaned into his mouth as he tweaked he nipple hard. Releasing her mouth, he kissed along her jaw and down her neck while he moved his hands to her thighs. He pushed her legs farther apart, pulling her a little closer to him, before sliding his hands back up her legs, thumbs brushing the insides of her thighs. Her breath caught, loving the feel of her legs spread over his, feeling exposed, anticipating. He paused, searching her eyes with his, making sure she was alright, before he moved his hand, brushing across her curls, to slide one finger down through her folds. She gasped, gripping his shoulder and arching her back as he pushed his finger gently into her opening before sliding it back up to stroke her clit. His touched were smooth, experienced, and she wondered briefly where he had learned this. But all other thoughts fled from her mind as he captured her nipple with his mouth and slid his finger deep inside her at the same time. He thrust shallowly with his finger a few times before withdrawing. She looked down at him, puzzled, but he simply moved her off his lap, seating her on the couch, before shifting down onto the floor in front of her. His placed his hand on her knees, parting them, and kissed the inside of her leg, looking up at her. She smiled at him, enjoying the feel of his eyes on her, and reached her hands up behind her head to grip the back of the couch as she spread her legs for him. His hands slid up her legs and underneath her as he gripped her buttocks and pulled her to the edge of the couch. Then he moved forward and ran his tongue lightly over her slit, tasting her, before moving his tongue across her more firmly, causing her to gasp. The sight of him, so familiar yet so new, kneeling between her legs, lapping at her folds, was almost enough to send her over the edge, and she moaned, gripping the sofa harder as he swirled his tongue around her clit, then slid his mouth down so that he could push his tongue inside her, continuing to move. She felt him remove one of his hands, and felt him moan against her as he started to stroke himself, thrusting in time with the movements of his tongue inside her. Then, as his tongue moved back up to her clit, she felt two fingers against her opening, stretching her, before he pushed them inside her. The sensation caused by his tongue and fingers spread through her body, and she clenched down on his fingers in response, feeling her muscles tighten.

"Please..." she whispered hoarsely.

He looked up at her.

"Oh, sweetie, I want you so bad," she gasped as he slid his fingers in and out of her.

"How?" He whispered, "how do you want me?"

"I want... Ohhhh! I need you inside me... please," she begged.

He withdrew his fingers from her and she winced at the loss of contact. But he quickly pulled her down onto the thick rug with him, kissing her chastely before lowering her down onto her back and pushing his hips between her legs. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her, pressing her body against his. She felt him move his hand between them, his weight supported on his elbow, and hissed as he ran his fingers through her folds once more before wrapping his fingers around himself, lining himself up. She felt his tip against her opening, heard him gasp as he pushed himself slowly into her, felt herself stretch around him almost painfully, moaning as he sheathed himself fully inside her.

"_Oh fuuuuuuuck,_" he gasped, "fuck, River... mmmhhhh."

He tried to hold himself still, to give her time to adjust, but his hips bucked against her involuntarily, hitting deep inside her and causing her to cry out.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, "I can't... "

"Don't you even think about stopping," she whispered.

He rocked her hips against him gently, urging him on. Focusing on control, he slid himself slowly out of her, until he almost broke contact, before pushing back inside her as she moaned at the feeling of him filling her. He began to thrust shallowly, holding himself back, sliding in an out of her in small movements, careful not to push to hard at first. But as she arched herself into him his thrusts became longer, harder, and she arched her body into his, moving in time with him and gasping every time he hit her just right.

He hooked a hand under her knee and lifted her leg up over his hip as he continued to pound into her. She hummed appreciatively at the new angle and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close and pressing her lips to his in a long, slow kiss, in contrast to his hard thrusts. She shifted her hips slightly to allow him to push even deeper into her. He moaned into her mouth and tried to slow himself down, sliding in and out of her with long, smooth movements. She gasped softly as she focused on feeling every inch of him moving inside her, and he moved his mouth from hers to press his face against her neck. The feeling of his body moving over hers and the low sounds he made as he thrust into her brought her closer, and she could feel the heat starting to spread through her body as her muscles tightened around him.

"Oh, sweetie, don't stop, don't stop... mmmhhh," she gasped out, tightening her grip on his back.

She felt his lips smiling against her neck before kissing her there as he continued to push her closer and closer, until her whole being was centered on him, the way he held her close against himself, the roughness of his cheek against her skin, his panting breath on her neck, the tight grip of his hand on her leg, the insistent pounding of him moving inside her, building and building until she cried out, arching her back, pushing herself against him as she clenched down on his hard length almost painfully before breaking, her hips bucking against him as pleasure rushed through her. She heard him give a sharp moan, and felt him start to thrust faster as she rode out the waves, whimpering as his hard thrusts slid against her sensitive flesh, feeling him start to peak. His hand slipped to her hips and crushed her to him as his body arched over her and he gasped, thrusting deep inside her.

"_Ohhhh fuuuuuck... River, River, fuck..._"

He held her tight against him as he came hard, his mouth open in a silent gasp, eyes tightly shut, hips jerking shallowly, pulsing inside her. He let his weight slump down on her with a soft cry, and they lay there together, panting, spent. She ran her hand lightly up his side and smiled as he shivered against her, catching his breath. He raised himself up just long enough to pull out of her, then rolled off her and lay next to her on his back, eyes closed. She snuggled up next to him on the floor, resting her head on his chest, and he moved to nestle his face in her hair as he stroked her shoulder. His other hand moved to hip, where he brushed his thumb over her skin in small circles. He tilted her face up to meet his, kissing her softly, languidly. She melted against him, sighing softly, running her fingers over his chest. She pulled back from the kiss and smiled at him, then stretched against him, her skin brushing over his.

"Mmmmmm," he hummed, kissing her forehead before smiling and looking into her eyes.

She started back, searching for signs of the desperation and confusion that had been present earlier, but saw only warmth and happiness. She leaned up and whispered his name in his ear again, stroking his face.

"Tell me," she said as he pulled her close against him, "Do I get to see you again?"

"Once," he said quietly, "But I won't know you."

She nodded.

"You've seen me... a different me, frequently though," he said, almost a question.

"Yes."

He sighed, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't want to think about leaving, about his next regeneration. He would see her again, but it wouldn't be _him_, it wouldn't be the same. He'd have to get to know her all over again. Sure, he'd remember her, but the feelings would take time to rebuild, they always did.

"Tell him... when you see me next, tell me... him... tell him to take care of you."

"I hardly need it."

"Still, please do it for me... I can't... I don't know how... you mean more to me than anyone I've just met ever should. Please... " He sighed.

"I will," she kissed him.

"Thank you."

She snuggled closed against him.

"Stay with me for a while?"

He smiled, stroking her hair. "As long as I can."


End file.
